


I'll Be Right Beside You

by driizzle



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Trans Snusmumriken | Snufkin, its lowkey though!!, moomin and snufkin are oblivious like usual, the snork fam can change color (like in the first few novels)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-06 22:38:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18860374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driizzle/pseuds/driizzle
Summary: “I’ll be back before you wake in the spring,” Snufkin said, smiling sadly. “It’ll be like I’d never left.”“Promise?” Moomin replied, eyebrows knit together nervously. Snufkin hesitated for just a moment, unsure. Then, he nodded his affirmation.“Yes. I promise I’ll be back,” he vowed.~When Snufkin's return is delayed, Moomin's life is thrown into a state of turmoil. Nobody is sure what might have happened. Did he get lost? Hurt? Or did he just decide never to return?Will he be patient enough to wait for Snufkin? Or will Moomin have to learn how to get along without his friend?





	1. In Which an Unexpected Delay Occurs

* * *

#### Days before, and miles away…

Snufkin found himself in somewhat of a sticky situation.

Upon noticing that his time abroad was drawing to a close, he packed up shop and started the long trek back to Moominvalley. He did enjoy his time; discovering new places, telling tales, learning new things; but he was starting to get a bit lonely. And he did make a promise, after all, that he would be back before Moomin woke up.

The day was lovely. There was nary a cloud in the sky, and the warm air had a slight breeze that ruffled his hair pleasantly. The forest he was travelling through (he didn’t care to learn its name) was marvelous. It had trees the size of mountains, rivers as large as oceans, and boulders bigger than him. Even the animals scurrying through the bushes were larger than normal. It was quite a sight. If he were an artist, he could have spent months painting the scenery.

 _’This will certainly make for an interesting story,’_ he thought as he trekked down a well-worn path. _’Moomin will surely be impressed.’_

The sunlight that shone through the branches was comforting. In the trees, birds that had recently taken up residence were chirping cheerfully as they flitted about. He paused his journey to close his eyes and relish in the peaceful atmosphere. He took in the sounds, admiring the peacefulness of it all. He listened to the soft gurgling of a nearby creek as it picked up remaining snow and danced over the rocks. The wind rustling the branches that were just starting to grow buds. The critters that scampered over the roots of the trees, greeting their families and preparing for the upcoming spring. He sighed, relaxing his pent-up muscles, as the--

“Help! Is anyone out there?” a brash voice pleaded, giving Snufkin a startle.

His smile fell, disturbed by the interruption. He followed the sound of the voice until he found its source. He peeked around a tree and looked down. It looked like an old tortoise had fallen into a crack in the ground upside-down. It’s feet were flailing wildly, which looked fairly comical. He swallowed an amused chuckle as he crouched down next to the struggling reptile.

“Hello there,” Snufkin said, “are you stuck?”

“What does it look like?” the tortoise snapped. Snufkin squinted, taken aback by the lack of manners.

“Do you… do you need any help?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

The tortoise scoffed matter-of-factly. “Yes! And make it quick, if you would! I have to get out of here before it’s too late.”

Putting down his fishing rod, Snufkin carefully wedged his hand under the tortoise and flipped it back rightside-up. The tortoise stumbled, off-balance, and sat down in the dirt wearily. It coughed, adjusting its glasses that must have fallen off during the accident, before addressing Snufkin.

“Thanks, sonny. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got somewhere to be,” it declared. He watched as the tortoise picked up what looked like a tiny wooden cane and waddled off. Snufkin trailed after it, wondering why this little creature was in such a hurry.

“And where would that be?” he asked inquisitively. The tortoise peered up at him as if he was a pest of some sort.

“Where does it matter? Anywhere indoors, that’s for sure.”

“How come?”

“Well, there’s a storm comin’.”

Snufkin skeptically looked up at the lovely, cloudless sky. Then back down at the tortoise. “... Uh-huh,” he said slowly.

The tortoise stopped in its tracks, insulted. “It’s true, I swear!” it spat. “I can feel it in these bones. It’s gonna be a bad one.”

Snufkin chuckled, waving his hands in a “calm down” fashion. “Alright, alright. I believe you, old-timer.”

“Hey, I’m 70 years young, kiddo! Watch your mouth,” sputtered the tortoise. It gave him a rude gesture then shambled off to who-knows-where.

Snufkin wrinkled his nose at the creature’s lack of gratitude and stuck his tongue out in its direction. Then, he returned back to the path, picked up his fishing rod, and continued on his way.

 _’What an odd character,’_ he thought. _’Wonder if he’s right.’_

~

Mere hours later, the sky began to darken. Thick, ominous clouds gathered in the distance, rumbling threateningly. The leaves began to shake violently as the wind picked up. Unnerved, Snufkin gripped his hat to keep it from falling off and kept going, albeit cautiously.

He decided he would get as much travelling done as possible before the rain came down, then he’d set up camp and stay the night. It couldn’t be _that_ bad, right?

As time went on, the storm crept closer and closer until it was almost upon him. _’I still have time,’_ he told himself. _’Just a little while longer.’_ Then, he jumped as a fat raindrop landed on the brim of his hat. Maybe not.

Before he could so much as put down his bag, the sky opened up and everything was thrown into chaos. Buckets on buckets of rain poured from the heavens. Snufkin made a timid squeak and shielded himself with his backpack.

Scrambling around like a frightened woodland creature, Snufkin searched frantically for refuge. There! Just up the hill, the maw of a cave beckoned. Grateful for this stroke of luck, he quickly made his way inside to keep himself from getting soaked.

“Phew… that was a close one,” he said to himself, wringing the water out of his hat. He brought his soaked belongings into the middle of the cave and peered outside into the downpour. The rain was already falling in heavy sheets, bringing with it a fog that obscured his vision.

 _’Maybe I could keep going,’_ he thought. Just then, a deafening crash of thunder sounded, making him jump three feet in the air. Electricity made the hair on his arms stand straight up. _’Or… I guess I could stay here a while…’_

He turned, planting his hands on his hips and examining his temporary home. The cave was dark and damp, but it was spacious enough for his tent at least. There was an opening to the back of the cave that looked like it might lead further in, but he wasn’t too keen on exploring it at the moment. The ground was uneven, too. He sighed. Better than nothing, he supposed.

Leaving his soggy boots to dry, he took some time to set up a little camp in his socks. His tent was a bit tall -- the top was flattened a bit by the roof -- but it was livable. It was also too wet to make a fire, so he would just have to layer up to stay warm.

When he was satisfied with his work, he dragged his stuff into the tent and rolled out his sleeping bag. He lay back with his head on his backpack and spent some time working on his spring tune. He didn’t have much so far, so having some time to work on it was sort of a blessing in disguise.

After a little while, though, he started to get peckish. His stomach grumbled at him. With a grimace, he rummaged through the contents of his pack and thanked his lucky stars that he absentmindedly picked some berries and fruits on his journey. It wasn’t much, but it would tie him over until the rain let up.

When the night came (or, more accurately, when Snufkin thought it might have been night), he put away his harmonica and set up his bed. Though he was beat from walking around all day, it took Snufkin some time to get to sleep. It was dreadfully cold, and his damp sleeping bag certainly didn’t help, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He was awakened by every thunderclap that sounded. But, after a few hours of restlessness, he drifted off into an uneasy slumber.

* * *

#### A season before…

_The last time Moomin saw his best friend Snufkin, winter had just begun._

_It was very early in the morning. The sun had barely peeked over the pink-tinged horizon, and was sending rainbows over the dew-covered grass. Everyone but Moomin was asleep. This was common; the days before Snufkin’s departure were always the most difficult._

_Lying awake in bed, Moomin found himself staring at the ceiling aimlessly. He tossed and turned, painfully aware of his… well… awareness._

‘Ugh! Why does this always happen?’ _he thought to himself, finally sitting up and planting his head in his hands._ ’I should be fast asleep right now...’

 _He stood up, stretching his arms above his head until they cracked._ ’Maybe all I need is some tea,’ _he reasoned, lighting the oil lamp by his bed and quietly easing open his bedroom door. He tiptoed down the hall, careful not to wake his family. Cursing the old, decrepit house, Moomin winced every time a creak echoed up the stairs. Already, dust-sheets were covering the couches and chairs; symptoms of Moominmamma’s pre-hibernation cleaning. Everything smelled clean now, but he knew that when spring came along, everything would be dreadfully dusty._

_Oh, how he hated the winter._

_Moomin left the lamp idling on the kitchen counter as he rummaged through the partially-emptied pantry. Almost everything perishable has been either eaten or discarded, leaving only porridge, cereal, and unappetizing canned beans behind. After some foraging, he found the teapot began boiling some water._

_He leaned against the kitchen counter with a yawn, tapping his foot impatiently while he waited. Then, by chance, he glanced out of the window towards the bridge. He started, barely managing to save his cup from falling to the ground, as he noticed that Snufkin’s tent was gone._

‘Already?’ _He thought dismally, hurriedly turning off the stove and making his way outside. He swiped a scarf off the coat rack -- a lovely green one he got for his last birthday -- and swung open the door. The late-autumn wind swept through the door, making Moomin shiver._

_He dashed down the veranda’s steps and over the bridge, where he found his friend rolling up his sleeping bag. Snufkin turned, startled, as Moomin skid to a halt in front of him._

”Snufkin!” _Moomin panted, relieved that he was still here._ “Are you leaving already?”

 _Snufkin’s shoulders sagged. Then, he lashed his sleeping bag to his backpack and hung it over his shoulder._ ”I’m afraid so, Moomin. Fall has ended, so I should probably be on my way.”

“Oh.” _Moomin looked down at his feet, fidgeting anxiously._ “I was wondering… if you would like to stay for tea? Just a quick cup before you go?”

 _Snufkin chuckled, surprising Moomin._ “That’s very kind, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline,” _he replied._ ”If I stay any longer, I’ll never leave.”

 _Moomin sighed, ears drooping._ “I know…” _He dropped his arms to his side._ “I was hoping I could convince you to stay…”

 _Snufkin’s smile faded. He stood up and shifted his backpack to his other shoulder._ “... You know why I do this, right?”

_Moomin nodded, shuffling his feet to keep them from freezing. Snufkin’s expression turned soft. He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder comfortingly._

“I’ll be back before you wake in the spring,” _he said, smiling sadly._ “It’ll be like I’d never left.”

“Promise?” _Moomin replied, eyebrows knit together nervously. Snufkin hesitated for just a moment, unsure. Then, he nodded his affirmation._

“Yes. I promise I’ll be back,” _he vowed. He pat Moomin’s shoulder warmly and turned to leave._

_Moomin clasped his hands as Snufkin made his way out of Moominvallley. Then, a thought came to him._

“Oh! Wait, Snufkin!” _he called. Nearly slipping on the wet grass, he trotted over whilst unwinding the scarf from around his neck._

 _Snufkin jumped as Moomin slung the scarf around his neck and secured it tightly._ ”You’ll need this more than I will,” he said with a grin.

 _Snufkin beamed in return, blushing with bright eyes._ “You don’t need to do that,” _He said meekly, adjusting the scarf. Moomin rolled his eyes._

“Oh, don’t be so modest.” _he answered, crossing his arms._ “It’s for your own good, after all.”

_Snufkin paused, gazing at Moomin with an unreadable expression. Then, he shook himself out of it and smiled thankfully._

“... Thank you, Moomin. I’ll make sure to bring it back,” _he said, taking a few steps backwards towards the forest._

“Don’t worry about it. Safe travels!”

_Moomin waved enthusiastically as Snufkin proceeded. As he continued, though, Moomin’s encouraging smile faded. Just before entering the treeline, Snufkin looked back one more time. Moomin was still standing there on that bridge, bearing a concerned frown. With one last wave goodbye, he vanished into the underbrush._

* * *

#### Presently…

The first day of spring brought with it a warm morning and the promise of a peaceful day.

The light glaring through Moomin’s curtains blinded him momentarily, stirring him from his dreams. It took him a minute to blink the sleep out of his eyes before realization hit him.

“It’s spring!” he cheered, jumping up and swinging open the windows to let in the light. Shielding his eyes, he admired the way the sun sparkled off the patches of remaining snow. The river was flowing steadily now, and though the sky was still sort of cloudy, it looked like it would be a lovely day.

Opening all the windows along the way, Moomin stomped down the stairs.

“Hey, who’s making all that racket?” Little My complained, peeking out the guest room’s door drowsily.

“It’s spring!” Moomin said again, practically dancing in place. My squinted at her friend, rubbing at her eyes lethargically.

“So?”

“What do you mean “so”? It’s spring-time! Snufkin’s back!”

“Oh. Oh!” she remarked, gaining her awareness. “Right! Gimme a sec!”

Little My slammed the door with a string of crashes and curses. Moomin left her be, too impatient to wait.

“Good morning, Moomin,” Moominmamma greeted her son with a smile as he stumbled downstairs.

“‘Morning, Mama!” Moomin said, giving her a big hug. Moominpappa glanced over from where he was sitting at the dining room table.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, nursing his mug of coffee like it was the only thing keeping him alive. Moomin nodded cheerfully, jumping into his seat and snatching a plate piled with pancakes.

Unable to wait for even a moment, Moomin shoveled food into his mouth. He was starved after his long hibernation. Moominpappa watched on, half amused, half concerned.

“Slow down, Moomin! Don’t want to catch the hiccups, now do you?” he said, gesturing towards his almost-empty plate. Reluctantly, Moomin put down his fork for a moment and wiped at his mouth with his elbow.

“Sorry! I’m just so excited!” Moomin replied, talking around a mouthful of pancake.

Moominpappa smiled knowingly and turned his attention back to the newspaper.

After finishing up and chugging the last of his drink, he thanked Moominmamma for the meal and sprinted out the door into the fresh spring air.

“Oh, dear, don’t forget your…” Moominmamma called from the kitchen’s doorway, trailing off after noticing he was too far gone. “... dishes.”

Moominpappa stood and took his and Moomin’s plates. Moominmamma sighed, watching her son run off.

”I’ve got it, Mama,” he said, planting a smooch on her cheek.

“Gross," Little My spoke, sticking her tongue out at the scene. She hopped down the stairs and into her seat at the table. "What’s with him?”

“Today is a big day for him,” Moominpappa shouted from the kitchen. "It's best to let him be."

Moomin raced through the newly-sprouted grass, breathing in the welcoming smells and sounds of spring.

”Snufkiiin! Snufkin?” he shouted, slowing to a stop on the bridge over the river. He looked around his usual spot, expecting to him already putting up his tent.

But Snufkin was nowhere to be seen.

He turned around, confused. “... Snufkin?” he said quietly. The tell-tale sound of Snufkin's harmonica was nowhere to be heard. There wasn’t even a trace of his friend’s presence. Moomin's ears drooped as he recognized what was happening.

Snufkin was late.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> augh! heres the first chapter. idk how long this'll go on for!! but!!! hope u enjoy!!
> 
> thank u for reading adfkalsdhf <3


	2. In Which Snufkin finds himself Trapped

* * *

#### Presently…

“What do you _mean_ he’s not here yet?”

Snorkmaiden, weary after her long hibernation, was awaken abruptly by an unexpected knocking at the front door. The perpetrator was no other than Little My, who was dragging along a half-asleep Sniff.

“I meant just what I said!” Little My said, tapping her foot impatiently. “He just hasn’t come back yet!”

Snorkmaiden grimaced nervously. “Well that can’t be good… how’s Moomin taking it?”

Little My stood on her tiptoes and grabbed her hand, hauling her down the stairs back towards Moominhouse. “Come see for yourself! I’ll tell you along the way.”

Meanwhile, Moomin was sitting on the bridge across the river, swinging his feet and holding his head in his hands fretfully. Every few minutes, he looked up towards the snow-capped forest, hoping that Snufkin would be there. Moominmamma and Moominpappa watched from the porch, worried.

“Oh, where could he be?” Moominmamma said. She was knitting furiously to keep herself from getting nervous. “He is usually so punctual…”

Moominpappa glanced up from his book to look at his son, who had started to throw rocks into the rivers flow. “Maybe he got lost?” he offered unhelpfully.

Mamma threw him a look. “Snufkin knows what he’s doing, dear. He couldn’t possibly.”

”Hm. That is true. Perhaps he got caught up in some trouble?” Moominpappa suggested. “You know how that boy despises authority.”

Moominmamma paused her knitting to blow on her steaming tea and take a sip. “I would hope not,” she said. “that would make things quite difficult.”

As the two sat pondering the possible causes, Little My finally returned with her entourage. They raced up towards the riverbank, out of breath.

“What--” Sniff wheezed mid-sentence. “-- what are we doing again?”

Snorkmaiden rolled her eyes. “Really, Sniff? Little My _just_ told us what happened.”

“Oh. Well, I wasn’t listening.”

Dismissing his ignorance, Little My tugged on Snorkmaiden’s hand and pointed towards the bridge.

“He’s been like this all morning,” she said.

Snorkmaiden watched Moomin as he lay down on the bridge, staring up at the cloudy skies wordlessly. He hadn’t even noticed that they were there. Snorkmaiden tilted her head, eyebrows knit.

“Poor Moomin…” she murmured. “Whatever should we do?”

“Well, go talk to him!” Little My insisted, giving her a little shove. “You’re his special someone, after all.”

“Oh! Right.” Snorkmaiden proceeded to the bridge, turning a bit pink at her silliness.

She stood over Moomin, grinning down at him cheerfully.

“Good morning, Moomin!” she chirped in a sing-song voice. “How did you sleep?”

Recognition flickered in his eyes, but he didn’t jump up to say hello like usual. “Hey, Snorkmaiden,” Moomin said quietly. “I slept okay, thanks.”

Snorkmaiden’s smile fell. It was worse than she thought. Resorting to comfort, she sat down on the bridge next to him and dangled her legs over the water.

“So… Snufkin’s not back from his travels yet?” she asked, looking back at him to see his reaction.

Moomin sat up with a sigh, staring back at the forest. His ear flicked in annoyance.

“Apparently not,” he said grimly. “even though he promised he would.”

Snorkmaiden put a hand on his shoulder sympathetically, trying to calm him down.

“Oh, Moomin… I’m sure it’s not on purpose…” she reasoned. “He could have gotten lost, or--”

“No, he wouldn’t!” Moomin interrupted, glaring into the water. “He knows these places like the back of his paw. He couldn’t have gotten lost.”

“Well, you don’t have to get mad at _me_.” Snorkmaiden replied defensively. She pat Moomin’s shoulder, but he brushed it off.

“You don’t know Snufkin like I do,” he murmured, getting to his feet and crossing his arms. “He _never_ breaks a promise. Ever.”

Snorkmaiden stood as well, facing Moomin with a concerned look. “I know that, Moomin,” she responded lowly. “We just need to patient. I’m sure he’s on his way.”

Moomin threw his hands into the air aggressively. “You don’t know that!”

“Well, what do you want me to say then?” she snapped, putting her hands on her hips. “Do you want me to tell you he’s gone? Do you want me to say that you’re being irrational? What do you want me to tell you?”

There was a beat of silence as the two seethed at each other. Then, Moomin turned and paced back towards Moominhouse.

“I’m going back inside,” Moomin said over his shoulder venomously. Moominmamma stood and approached to comfort him, but he walked right past her and slammed the front door.

Snorkmaiden began to follow him, but stopped to think about it.

She crossed her arms bitterly. “Well, if he’s going to be like that…” she complained, her fur turning a bit red. She stomped back over the bridge to where the others were sitting in the grass. Little My was giggling covertly into her hands, and Sniff had fallen asleep once again.

“That looks like it went well!” Little My said, trying (and failing) to conceal her amusement. Snorkmaiden harrumphed, turning redder, and left.

Little My watched her go, her laughter subsiding. “What? Was it something I said?”

Sniff fell backwards into the grass, snoring loudly. Little My rolled her eyes.

* * *

#### Weeks ago, in a cave far away…

_The ocean coursed and streamed around Snufkin, the tide pulling him further and further from shore. His struggling was fruitless; the current was far too strong for him._

“Snufkin!” _A familiar voice called, barely audible above the thunderous crashing of the sea. Snufkin bobbed on the water’s surface, too disorientated to locate the source. He finally caught a glimpse of something: Moomin stood at the seashore, a halo of light around him as if he were an angel. The waves crashed around him, but his focus was solely on Snufkin. His heart swelled up with something (he couldn’t quite place what it was), but before he could act, a violent wave collapsed atop him, driving him deep underwater. Snufkin gasped, bubbles escaping like trapped butterflies from his mouth, as the surge drove the breath out of him._

_Battling ferociously, he finally broke through the surface and inhaled deeply. His arms burned with the effort, and his lungs were wracked with pinpricks of pain. The shore was so much farther away than a minute ago, yet Moomin stood calmly._

“Moomin!” _Snufkin shouted, the sea sending salt in his eyes and mouth. He drove himself frantically towards the light, but his legs were weak from swimming so hard. Moomin just stared, unable to assist. Helpless, Snufkin was forced under once more. The ocean’s surface seemed miles away now, and he knew that no matter what he did, he wouldn’t be able to get back. Finally giving up, he decided to let his exhausted limbs rest. The bubbles flew from his mouth and nose, floating peacefully up to the cacophonous sea above. Snufkin was terrified; unable to move or scream as he was dragged further and further, down and down into the relentless, frigid, murky--_

**_CRASH!_ **

“AUGH!”

Snufkin awoke with a start, screaming and flailing desperately. His foot caught the tent-pole, and the whole thing fell on top of him in a heap. Realizing that he was awake, Snufkin struggled to regain his composure. He slumped down the ground, the tent smothering his feverish breathing. Slowly, he counted to ten and waited for his heartbeat to return to normal. Then, he felt around for the tent-flap and crawled out. He collapsed onto the ground.

 _’What… was that?!’_ Snufkin thought, gazing wearily up at the cave’s ceiling on his back. His breath slowly evened out, and the pounding in his brain subsided so he could think again.

He has never had a dream like that before. It felt so real. Snufkin sat up, rubbing his head, and took a gander at his surroundings.

The sight was disheartening, to say the least.

Not only had his tent fallen down, but the entrance to the cave was blocked completely by one of the huge trees he had seen before. _’This must be what made that crash,’_ he reasoned, getting up to check the damage. _’It really is too bad… it must have been growing for a hundred years.’_

He tried to climb up and over, but the space was too small for him. The space between the floor was much the same. Banishing that troubling dream from his head, he focused on finding an escape route.

First, he tried simply pushing the tree out of the way. But, obviously, the tree was too heavy. It was lodged in there pretty good.

Then, he tried using the tent-pole as a chisel. He stabbed at the bark, trying to break off enough so he could sidle underneath. The effort sent jolts of pain up his arm, and he got a couple scrapes as well. He barely made a mark.

Lastly, he tried the more humiliating option: calling for help.

“Hello? Is anybody out there? I’m sort of trapped… could I have some help?” he shouted. He yelled until his voice was hoarse, but there was no response. Either there was nobody out, the rain was too loud, or he was too far away to be heard anyways.

Or all of the above, he supposed.

Bled out of options, Snufkin turned to his last resort. He tore a strip off his outfit (to his dismay), wrapped it around a limb torn from the fallen tree, and lit it up with his flint and steel. It took a little while, as everything was still quite damp, but eventually he made himself a functional torch. He left his hat and backpack behind, but took his fishing line and Moomin’s scarf. He couldn’t bear leaving it behind. He secured one end of the fishing-line to a stalagmite and kept the other end with him.

He tied the arms of his coat around his waist so he wouldn’t get to hot, leaving him in his undershirt. He frowned, trying not to imagine how ridiculous he looked.

Finally, he approached the back of the cavern and sighed. Hopefully, there would be some exit further in the cave. He wasn’t counting on it, but at this point he was willing to try anything.

Gathering up his courage, Snufkin put his harmonica to his lips and started playing an uplifting tune as he took his first steps into the cave.

* * *

#### Elsewhere & Elsewhen…

Moomin paced relentlessly around his room, arms crossed behind his back. His tail swished from side to side in agitation as he tried to come up with some reason -- ANY reason -- that Snufkin would break his promise.

“I can obviously rule out getting lost… he’s far too smart for that,” he said to himself, fidgeting anxiously. “He’s _probably_ not in jail either… I hope?”

He fell backwards onto his bed with a _whomph_. That could only leave a few options. He could be stuck somewhere. Unable to return. Or -- and it scared Moomin to think about this -- he could be hurt.

He stared up at the rafters of his room intensely, watching the dust-mites wander through the light beams.

Or… he could just be gone.

Moomin shook his head angrily, standing up and pacing to the window.

“Snufkin would never just _leave_ , right?” he said. “He promised he would be back. He promised.”

Moomin propped his head up on his paws. Through the window, he saw his friends down by the bridge, bickering anxiously amongst themselves. “He would tell me if he was going to leave… right?”

Moomin turned his gaze to the empty space where Snufkin’s tent would have been. It looked wrong; something was off about the vacancy.

There was no way he would just go. Moomin was sure of it.

 _’What if he’s gone in a different way?’_ Moomin’s subconscious said cryptically, alarming him.

“No… he’s not…”

_’Dead in a ditch. Slipped off a cliff. Eaten by bears.’_

Moomin turned to sit back down on his bed. No. That’s not true.

_’But how are you sure?’_

“Because he isn’t! He can’t be!” Moomin spoke out loud, holding his head and staring a hole through the floor.

 _’You have no way of knowing, though,’_ his mind responded.

Moomin hesitated, pondering.

He couldn’t imagine it; he just couldn’t.

He was certain that, somewhere out there, Snufkin was working tirelessly trying to get back to Moominvalley.

Back to Moomin.

~

Moomin’s friends and family tried to communicate with him throughout the day. Every once in a while, a knock came at Moomin’s door. He didn’t respond. He didn’t really feel like talking to anybody.

When it got late at night, the knocks slowed. Then, a little bit after ten, they stopped completely. Moominmamma left a plate of porridge and some juice at the door. Moomin brought it in, but didn’t eat anything. He’d save it for tomorrow.

It rained that night. Moomin sat awake in bed, begging, _pleading_ with himself to fall asleep. But he was wide awake, thinking about what might have happened to his best friend.

Sometime after midnight, Moomin finally got up. Unable to sleep, unable to eat, he decided to go wait some more.

He climbed down the ladder, careful not to slip on the rungs. The rain wasn’t cold, thankfully, but it still soaked him to the core. He made his way to the bridge and sat down on the edge with his feet dangling above the water. Moomin sullenly stared at the tree-line, hands in his lap, waiting tirelessly for Snufkin to finally return.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeowch. this got a bit more angsty than i imagined! but that's okay, i'll just make the next one a bit fluffier! thanks for reading :)!!


	3. In Which Moomin falls Ill and a Plan is Concocted.

#### Presently, back at Moominhouse…

Moominmamma had woken up early the next day, worried about her son. Moomin still wasn’t answering the door, but he did take the porridge she laid out for him. That was good; at least he had something to eat last night.

She hummed to herself as she prepared some breakfast for the family. Pancakes, jam, and little cakes were Moomin’s favorite, so she took some time to make them look nice. The soft rainfall on the windows calmed her. When everything was ready, she called for everyone and set out some plates.

“‘Morning, Moominmamma!” Little My said, hopping down the steps recklessly. Moominpappa trailed behind, his bloodshot eyes a sign that he stayed up too late working on his novel.

Moominmamma glanced upstairs, noticing Moomin’s absence. “Is Moomin with you?” she asked.

Moominpappa shrugged sleepily and collapsed into his seat at the table.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” he said, taking a meager sip of his coffee, “everyone needs some alone time now and again.”

“Hm…” Moominmamma thought for a moment, then made her way towards the stairs. “I’m going to go check on him.”

Little My licked her fingers (which were naturally covered in syrup because, as she claimed, ‘Forks were for chumps’) and said “I already tried! He’s too sad about Snufkin to come out.”

Moominmamma pursed her lips and reluctantly returned to her seat at the table. They were probably right, of course. He certainly did have a lot of feelings for that boy.

Suddenly, before Moominmamma could grab a bite, an urgent knocking came at the door. Little My sprung out of her chair, knocking it over in the process. “I’ve got it!” she said excitedly.

“Now who could that be at this hour?” Moominpappa asked, sitting up at the noise. Moominmamma stood as well, curious about who would be out and about in this weather. She gasped as none other than Moomin on the doorstep, soaked and shivering miserably.

“Oh, Moomin!” Mama cooed, bringing him inside and fussing over his depressed state. Little My rolled her eyes and shut the door with her foot.

“Oh dear,” Moominpappa remarked. He trotted to the kitchen to find something to dry him off with.

Moomin shook his fur like a dog (successfully soaking the carpet and furniture) and trembled, crossing his arms. “S-Sorry, Mama,” he said with chattering teeth.

Moominmamma felt a pang of sympathy and quickly dried him off with a towel provided by Moominpappa. He and Little My stood aside, watching with intrigue and concern.

“What were you doing out in the rain, love?” she asked, guiding him upstairs by the arm. He didn’t say anything, just stared at the ground.

“Waiting for Snufkin, no doubt,” Little My pouted, earning a scowl from Moominmamma. She shrugged innocently. “What? It’s true.”

Taking it slow, Moomin was led up to the second guest bedroom, the one Little My wasn’t using. She prepared a warm, cloth for him and put it on his forehead. Poor dear. He was shaking like a leaf in the wind.

“W-Why hasn’t Snufkin come back yet?” Moomin asked between sneezes. His eyes had bags under them; he must’ve been awake all night long. Moominmamma pat his arm in consolation.

“I’m not sure, hon,” she answered, “but I wish I did.”

Moomin looked dejected, pulling the blankets over his nose. “He told me he would be b-back…” he said. “He _promised_.”

“I know,” said Moominmamma. She squeezed his hands as his eyes drooped. He must have been exhausted.

Moomin mumbled a string of incoherent apologies, but Moominmamma just shushed him and told him to go to sleep.  
Moomin promptly passed out, no doubt worn out from his all-nighter. Moominmamma’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. With a parting kiss to his forehead, she let him rest. Moominpappa and Little My were peeking through the door, and jumped when she made her way out.

“Is he alright?” Little My asked. Moominmamma looked back at Moomin, who was coughing weakly.

“He’s okay, but he’s got a nasty cold.”

Moominpappa huffed. He sat down on the stairwell and tapped his knee rhythmically. Little My sat next to him with a ‘harumph’ and mimed him. Moominmamma knew that look; he was deep in thought. _’Ah. Here we go.’_ she thought.

“Dear, you know how I hate seeing Moomin like this,” he began. “What we need to do is bring that Snufkin kid back, don’tcha think?”

Moominmamma bit her lip. “I suppose so… but how do you expect to do that?” she said. “We don’t know where he may have gone.”

Little My hopped up, planting her hands on her hips triumphantly. “We could follow his trail!” she declared. “After all, I am an excellent tracker.”

Moominmamma and Moominpappa shared a look, trying not to snicker. Little My sulked, crossing her arms. “It’s true!” she asserted, glowering at the two.

“Of course it is, dear,” Moominmamma said, giving her little head a pat. This, of course, only made her angrier.

“Well, fine, then! If you don’t believe me, I’ll go get the others.” Little My stomped down the stairway, red with tiny fury. “I’ll start a search party all on my own!”

“Good idea, My!” Moominpappa rejoiced, jumping to his feet. “I’ll come with you. Oh, how I adore adventure!”

“Don’t patronize me, Moominpappa.” Little My scowled, but she didn’t stop him from tagging along.

Moominmamma watched the two as they raced out the door in search of volunteers. She sighed, shaking her head, and set about readying the house for spring once more.

* * *

#### Then, that night…

_Moomin was sitting alone in a sprawling meadow. The sunset sent brilliant waves of orange and pink across the star-dotted sky. It was pleasantly warm, and a cool wind ruffled his fur._

_He sat criss-crossed, pulling grass out of the ground and sprinkling it over his legs lazily. The only sounds were the rustling of the grass, the crickets’ violins, and Moomin humming idly to himself. He was waiting for something, though he couldn’t quite remember what._

_Then, he heard it._

_A lonesome tune danced over the field; one Moomin had never heard before. It was soft and intricate, and carried with it a sort of forlorn grace. There was only one person who could craft a melody so soul-gripping; so emotional. Moomin jumped to his feet, turning in circles to find the source of the song._

_There! To the west, in the light of the setting sun, Moomin could see him. He recognized his signature hat silhouetted against the glare, his fishing rod resting on his shoulder, his unique easy-going gait. It was Snufkin._

_Overcome with an emotion he couldn’t quite place, Moomin took off running through the tall grass. Snufkin’s shadow ceased playing its harmonica, yet the music mysteriously continued. The silhouette dropped its backpack to the ground and sprinted towards him as well._

_As they got closer and closer, Moomin could see his features. He wore a huge, rare, genuine smile that only Moomin had the opportunity to see. He had those concerned brown eyes that sparkled like gemstones. The freckles that dusted his nose and cheeks like stars._

_All of a sudden, the two collided. And the world fell silent._

_Moomin wrapped his arms around his friend, laughing with reckless abandon. Snufkin was laughing too -- not that polite chuckle reserved for civil conversations, but a full-blown belly laugh that shook Moomin to his core and overflowed him with happiness. Snufkin buried his face into Moomin’s fur, arms draped over his shoulder. His hat had flown off during the run, but at this moment, he didn’t care enough to retrieve it._

_Moomin pulled back, holding Snufkin’s cheeks in his hand, and was surprised to see they were tear-stained._

“What’s wrong?” _he asked, joy turning swiftly to worry. Snufkin smiled wordlessly, wiping the tears from his face._

“Moomin… I missed you so much while I was gone,” _he said, holding Moomin’s hands in his own._ “I had a lot to think about on my journey.”

_Moomin tilted his head, confused as to what he was saying._ “What do you mean, Snufkin? Did I do something wrong?”

_Snufkin grinned, eyes sparkling with amusement. He caressed Moomin’s cheek tenderly, pulling his face down to his own, and said quietly,_ “Quite the contrary…”

_And, with the utmost delicacy, Snufkin placed a kiss right upon Moomin’s snout. It was careful and hesitant, but had an underlying sense of impatience. It ended all too fast, and left Moomin reeling with emotions: confusion, glee, surprise._  
 _When Snufkin stepped back nervously, he was blushing intensely, looking a little shocked himself._ “S-Sorry,” _he said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at the ground._ “I’ve just been waiting to do that for a long time.”

_Moomin shook himself out of his daze, beaming like he never had before. Giddy with these odd emotions, Moomin suddenly grabbed Snufkin’s hands and twirled him around with a noise of pure delight. Snufkin chuckled, startled by Moomin’s abrupt move, and gripped his paws tightly._

**”Moomin?”**

_Then, without warning, Moomin tripped and capsized, dragging them both down to the cool grass with a “whomph”. They both paused for a second, staring at the sky. Then they looked back at each other and broke out into a series of delirious giggles. It took a moment for them both to calm down; every time they thought they were finished, one of them made a funny face and they would start all over again._

**”Moomin!”**

_After regaining their composure, Snufkin turned over onto his stomach and gazed at Moomin, who was struggling to catch his breath again. Snufkin’s tail was wagging rapidly, and he couldn’t help but reach over and take Moomin’s paw in his own. Moomin squeezed his hand back, turning to look at him. Then, Snufkin leaned forward, catching his glance, and--_

**”MOOMIN!”**

~

“AHH!!”

Moomin woke abruptly, sitting bolt upright with a shout of surprise. Little My, who had been sitting on his belly and yelling at him to wake up, got smacked right in the forehead and fell dramatically onto the mattress.

“Ouch!” she squawked, rubbing her head aggressively. “What the heck!?”

Moomin didn’t respond; he was too busy holding his red-hot face in his paws in shame. To his disgrace, the room was filled to the brim with people. Through his fingers he could see Sniff, Little My, Moominmamma and Moominpappa, and even Snorkmaiden.

God, how embarrassing.

“What kind of stupid fever-dream were you having just now?” Little My asked, standing and gesturing towards his flushed appearance. “You’re as red as a beet!”

Moomin just shook his head, still hiding his face and wishing he could crawl under a rock and disappear forever.

Moominpappa unhelpfully fell to the ground, barely able to breathe through his laughter. Moomin and Little My glared at him with utter resentment.

“Oh, come on now,” Moominmamma reprimanded, giving her husband a little poke. He wheezed, attempting to pull himself together. Then he stood, brushed off, and chuckled apologetically at the gathering.

Moomin rattled his head, trying to shake that odd fever-dream (because that’s all it was, right?) out of his head. He sat up a bit, regaining his composure.

“W-What’s everybody d-doing here?” He changed the topic, his voice hoarse from coughing all night. “Is s-something happening?”

Sniff spoke up, beaming in excitement. “We put together a rescue party!” he exclaimed. “For Snufkin, that is.”

The group made various noises of affirmation. Snorkmaiden didn’t say anything, though; just stared out the window wistfully. Moomin remembered what happened the other day and felt guilty for snapping at her.

Little My scrambled off the bed and onto the end table so she could be at sort-of eye level with everyone. Moominmamma lifted her mug of tea off the table just in time, so it wouldn’t be kicked off.

“Yep! Everyone here is going down south so we can see what the heck Snufkin is up to,” she announced, “except for someone, who’s gonna stay here to look after you.”

“What? No!” Moomin yelped, struggling to get up. “I w-want to come!”

Worriedly, Moominpappa went to his side and lay him back down.

“I’m sorry, Moomin,” he said, “but right now, you’re a bit too… ah…”

“Weird?” Sniff offered.

“Unstable!” Little My shouted gleefully.

“Obsessed…” Snorkmaiden murmured, looking at Moomin for the first time that night.

Moominpappa blew out a breath, as if relieved he didn’t have to say it. “Well, yes.”

Moomin’s ears drooped.

“I-Is that really what I’m acting like?”

They all shared some glances, then nodded apologetically. Moominmamma wandered over and squeezed his hand thoughtfully.

“Don’t take it personally, dear,” she said with a comforting smile, “it happens to everyone at some point.”

Moomin sunk into the mattress sullenly, fidgeting anxiously with his tail. “Oh.”

There was an awkward silence for a moment.

Then, Sniff, who was sitting in the middle of the room, stood up. “Anywho, about that volunteer!”

Little My pointed at Moominmamma and Moominpappa. “It should probably be one of you,” she said, “cuz the rest of us aren’t really responsible enough, anyways.”

At this, Moominpappa puffed out his chest in a proud sort of manner.

“Well, then I believe that the choice is obvious enough!” he said proudly. “Moominmamma, would you mind?”

Moominmamma squinted as if in thought. Then she said matter-of-factly, “Actually, I think I would love to go on an adventure of some sort.”

“Ah, yes! Then shall we…” Moominpappa trailed off, caught off guard by her answer. He deflated, turning to look at her. “Pardon?”

She shrugged nonchalantly, setting her mug down on the window-sill. She gave her husband a knowing look.

“I said that I would be happy to be the chaperone of this venture,” she stated. “that is... if you don’t mind.”

The kids all did little “oooh” noises under their breath. Even Snorkmaiden, who had kept her jealous schtick up to this point, couldn’t help but giggle at Moominpappa’s perplexed expression.

Moominpappa hesitated, feeling a bit foolish. He rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling quietly.

“Oh. Ah, well of course, dear,” he said sheepishly, “I think I’ll just… stay behind for this one.”

“Yippee! I can’t wait to have some of Moominmamma’s delicious cooking,” Sniff cheered, oblivious to Moominpappa’s sorrow. Moominmamma smiled innocently, giving her husband a kiss before heading downstairs.

“Ooh!” Little My snickered. “Sorry, Moominpappa! Looks like Mama’s in charge now!”

Little My and the others followed in Moominmamma’s wake, giggling at her husbands misfortune.

Moominpappa scratched his head in confusion, following along like a dazed dog.

“... Well, I supposed I’ll just--” he cleared his throat awkwardly ”-- be… going now…”

During this whole spiel, Moomin was sulking to himself, contemplating his situation in silence. But, as he saw everyone leaving, he snapped back to reality.

“Snorkmaiden?” he said, sitting up attentively.

She peeked back into the room, yellow with curiosity.

“What is it, Moomin?” she said, her face straight.

Moomin rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Uhm… I’m sorry for yelling at you the other day,” he said, “I didn’t really notice how… uh… on-edge I was. That was rude of me.”

Snorkmaiden perked up, her fur turning to a light pink.

“Oh, that’s alright!” She glided into the room with smug grin. “I get that you were a bit stressed, Moomin. I forgive you.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief, smiling back weakly. Snorkmaiden paused, as if waiting for something.

“Ah… is there anything else you wanted before I go?” she inquired delicately. Moomin thought for a moment.

“Yeah, actually, if that’s okay,” he said, a bit guilty. “If… or, uh, when… you see S-Snufkin, could you tell him--”

At this, Snorkmaiden’s fur turned to a bright red, then to a green. Her face fell into a scowl. She huffed, pacing to the door angrily.

“You really are obsessed with him!” she called before slamming the door.

Moomin lay there in stunned silence, staring at the doorway in confusion.

“Was did I say?”

~

It was nearing midnight in Moominvalley, and almost everybody was fast asleep at home.

That is, except for Snufkin’s search party, which were just leaving Moominhouse laden with bags of all sizes.

“Don’t forget,” Moominmamma said, wringing her hands nervously, “no ovens while I’m gone! There should be enough jam and bread for until I get back.”

Moominpappa stood on the veranda, waving enthusiastically. “I won’t, Mama! Oh, did you grab the sunscreen? Wouldn’t want you to get burnt out on your adventure.”

“Yes, dear, it’s right here. Take care of Moomin, will you?”

“Of course, darling. Safe travels, alright?”

“I know, honey. Oh, please eat the leftover pancakes before they go bad, alright?”

“Okay, Moominmamma. Have fun.”

During this spiel, Sniff and Little My groaned and faux-gagged, bored out of their minds. They were at this for five minutes already.

“Moominmammaaaaa…” Little My whined, pulling her hand impatiently. “Let’s gooo already…”

Moominmamma begrudgingly let herself get dragged away, but not after one more hug and kiss goodbye. Then, finally, they were off. Moominpappa waved, confused yet happy for his wife for taking charge.

“Oh, if only,” he said to himself with a sigh before retreating back inside. Moomin watched from the window, head propped up with his hands. He watched as their lanterns became smaller and smaller until they disappeared into the tree-line. He hoped they would be okay out there, and that they’d find Snufkin.

He turned as the door opened and Moominpappa walked in. He smiled, but Moomin didn’t really feel like being cheered up. Papa went and sat next to him on the bed (making it sag towards him a bit).

“They’ll be fine, you know,” Moominpappa said. “Moominmamma may seem domestic, but she really does know what she’s doing.”

Moomin lay back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. “That’s not what I’m worried about…”

They sat in silence for a moment. Then, Moominpappa stood and made his way towards the door.

“Well, that being said… you heard her, right?” Moominpappa winked jovially. “No funny business, okay?”

Moomin chuckled, amused. “Of course, Papa.”

And with that, Moominpappa said goodnight and went off to bed. Though he was exhausted from his cold, Moomin simply could not fall asleep. He kept thinking about his friends and family, out in the woods looking for Snufkin… for _him_.

Moomin smiled softly. _’I really am lucky,’_ he thought to himself. But if anyone was hurt… he couldn’t imagine how guilty that would make him.

After some hours of fretting, Moomin finally fell into an unsound, uneasy slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *does an excited little dance*
> 
> here's another chapter! a bit longer than normal but, hey, there's nothing wrong with that i guess lmao. i was guilty abt how angst-y the last one was, so here's something a bit lighter asfasdfhj (that dream scene tho...)
> 
> OH and dont worry about snufkin. the next chapter is going to be allllll about him. thank you for reading!!!!!!!


	4. The Chapter in Which Snufkin Attempts his Escape

Snufkin’s harmonica echoed eerily down the caverns passages, giving his chipper tune a sinister aura. The only other noises were his own footsteps, the unwinding of his fishing line, and the aggressive crackling of his makeshift torch. He had already run out of one spool of fishing line, and was now using his backup. Since he’d started down this path, it had only sloped down and down, which wasn’t a good sign. It was hotter than he thought it would be, even when he wasn’t wearing his coat, and he felt dreadfully claustrophobic. He missed the sun, and the stale air made it hard to breathe.

Unable to focus on his thoughts, Snufkin put away his harmonica and brought himself back to the present. The cave seemed much more intimidating without the comforting tunes. He tried to keep his mind clear so he could focus on his escape, but it was tedious work, and he kept drifting back to his troubling dream. What could it have meant? How come Moomin was in it? And why did it feel so _real_?

It could have been a vision, or a prophecy, but he sincerely doubted it. It was likely the result of a terrible nights sleep. That’s it.

Snufkin grimaced, ducking under a low ceiling. He didn’t have time for this. He was late enough as it is. He should be halfway to Moominvalley by now, but _no_ , he had to get himself stuck in a cave instead. Stupid.

He just hoped he would be back before spring. He would feel awfully guilty if he broke his promise.

After a while, he sat down on the cool rock and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The heat from the torch in this close proximity made it unbearably hot, and his chest was starting to give off painful aches from all the walking. He probably should have taken the bandages off his chest before going in, but he forgot he even had them on. He reached into his empty pocket and cursed himself for not having enough forethought to bring food.

As he leaned against the uncomfortable wall, he found himself thinking about Moomin again. What was he doing right now?

_’Well,’_ Snufkin thought to himself, _’he’s probably still in hibernation. After all, there are still a few more days until springtime.’_

He wondered what he was dreaming about. Did you even have dreams when you went into hibernation? He wasn’t sure; it’s been a while since he tried it.

Was he having dreams about Snufkin too?

No, that’s not very likely. This one was just a coincidence, that’s all.

He closed his eyes and imagined himself back in Moominvalley. He thought of the rolling hills, of the tranquil forests, the warm sea. But most of all, he thought about Moomin, and about how excited he would be to see him again.

Snufkin blinked at his awkward train of thought. What was up with that? Maybe the heat was driving him nuts. He would see Moomin soon enough, so why was he so curious about how he was doing?

Finding himself feeling homesick, he put Moomin’s scarf to his face and breathed in. The smell of freshly baked bread, the tell-tale fragrant wood of Moominhouse, and the sweet scent of Moominmamma’s houseplants calmed him. But he also noticed a different smell, underlying the familiar scent of Moominvalley. It was sort of a smokey smell; the tobacco from his pipe, no doubt. He would have to wash that out later.

Snufkin took one more moment, pondering his situation, before standing and continuing on his way. Just moments later, though, he turned a corner and ran right into a dead end.

_’Drat,’_ he thought, scowling crossly, _’guess I’ll have to retrace my steps.’_

He turned on his heel and followed his fishing-line path, winding it back around the spool with his free hand as he went.

All of a sudden, his foot slipped on something, and he lost his balance. He fell to the ground, fumbling his torch, and watched helplessly as it coughed and sputtered out. The caverns darkness swallowed up Snufkin’s whole world, leaving him completely blind and alone.

“No,” he said under his breath, getting to his knees and feeling around frantically for the handle. “No, no, no, no!”

His finger brushed something wooden, and he grabbed it hurriedly. But it was too late; there was nothing he could do now. His flint and steel was back with his other belongings. Dread flushed through him, paralyzing him. He slid back to the ground, wrapping his arms around his knees as the walls seemed to creep in on him.

Just when he thought he was going to lose it, his night-eyes adjusted to the darkness. It wasn’t much, but Snufkin was greatly relieved nonetheless. At least he had that going for him. He shut his eyes tight, willing himself to slow his breathing and calm down.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Snufkin relaxed his muscles and drew in a deep, shaky breath. He wasn’t going to let something this small throw him off.

Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.

_’This isn’t the end of the world,’_ he told himself. _’I can get out of this.’_

And with that, he rose nervously to his feet. He grabbed the fishing line from where it was forgotten on the floor, and crept back in the trails direction. Over time, he regained his confidence and sped up to a walk. His breathing evened out as he realized sheepishly how much he was over exaggerating the situation.

As he came to a junction in the path, Snufkin paused suddenly. He strained his ears, convinced he had heard something.

He turned towards one of the other passages, a quiet sound piquing his curiosity. It was the sound of running water. And where there was water, there might just be...

“A way out!” he cheered with a grin. He must not have heard it earlier over the torch.

Careful not to slip and fall again, he scampered down the tunnel with the fishing line reeling out behind him. It was still sloping down quite sharply, but the noise was definitely still worth investigating.

The sound of flowing water grew louder as he came closer and closer to its source. Then, he his a turn and found himself at the mouth of a massive chamber.

It was huge, it’s ceiling taller than anything he’d ever seen before. Huge stalactites and stalagmites reached for each other, some meeting and forming columns of solid rock. In the middle of it all, a lake-sized pool of water churned restlessly, slapping against the sides of the cavern and washing sand onto the ancient rock. An opening on the far end of the cavern emitted a radiant light that made Snufkin squint. It was sunlight, he realized with a little gasp.

_’This place must have been untouched for hundreds of years!’_ he commented, walking down to the lake’s edge.

Giddy with his new discovery, he cupped some water in his hands to have a drink. As he took a sip, stinging salt hit his lips. He spit it out, disgusted.

“Salt water?” he said, amazed. Of course! That’s why the tunnel went so far down, it had led him all the way to the ocean!

He lay down on his stomach and peered suspiciously into the clear water. To his surprise, countless little creatures swarmed under the turf. Mussels, horseshoe crabs, periwinkles, sea stars, and even a few small fish.

He smiled at the sight, dipping his hand in to poke at a rambunctious crab. _’Well, maybe it’s not entirely untouched.’_

He stood, wiping the sand off of him, and gazed around in awe at the sight. Then he jumped, recalling his situation, and and cursed his easily-lost attention.

He secured the fishing line to a rock before speeding back towards his temporary abode.

He was getting out of here _tonight_.

~

It took him a few hours to retrieve all of his things. He had to find his way back to the main cave (through the dark, no less), roll up his tent, pack up all his belongings, and trek back down the passage to the lake (he did fashion himself a new torch this time, just in case).

When he finally returned to the chamber, he was exhausted from his frenzied escape. He dropped his things and lay next to them on the sandy bank for a moment. Then, he noticed how the light emanating from the exit was growing dim. Was the sun setting already?

“Oh, _fantastic_ ,” he mumbled sarcastically, rubbing his eyes. “Another day wasted.”

He stood up and planted his hands on his hips thoughtfully. It looked like the tide was receding. Good, at least that’s something.

Knowing the night air would be cold, he put his coat and hat back on, as well as Moomin’s scarf. He was afraid it would get wet if it was in his bag.

Snufkin shouldered his pack once more and tromped through the sand towards the exit. After a quick inspection, he concluded that the opening had a narrow strip of sand around the sides. The middle was all ocean, as the cove led straight out into the sea. If he was careful, he could easily sidle around the edge. Hopefully, there would be a beach nearby for him to get to.

As he advanced, a memory of last nights dream flashed through his head. Carelessly, he pushed that thought away so he could focus. He didn’t have time for self-doubt.

Cautiously, he peeked around the corner of the entrance to scout out his path. Just as he thought; there was a beach right next to the cove’s entrance. Hugging the wall, he crept around the sandy bank. The waves that splashed at his ankles made him anxious, but it wasn’t long before he was home free.

“Oh, thank the god of all small creatures,” he said, bending over and putting his hands on his knees. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, but apparently that dream he had was more impactful than he thought. He breathed in the salty ocean air with a comfortable sigh.

Then, he fished his harmonica out of his pocket and began to play a silly tune. He’d have to walk all through the night if he were to get back on schedule, so he’d have to find some way to stay awake. But before he could make it more than a few steps, his foot caught on something and he face planted into the sand.

“What is _with_ me and being so clumsy today?!” he wondered, agitated. He stood up and blew the grains out of his harmonica (successfully producing a sour note that made him cringe). When he looked down, he observed what it was he had tripped over.

A little chain fence, barely reaching his knee, blocked off entry or exit to the cove through the beach. Next to it, a little sign in fancy cursive read this:

* * *

**~ ENTRY FORBIDDEN ~**

**This cove is private property. Any trespassers will be  
taken to the proper authorities.**

**Thank you for your cooperation!**

* * *

“What?” he commented incredulously, squinting angrily at the sign. On whose authority? For what purpose?

With a huff, he reached to grab the sign, but before he could do anything, he heard a voice from behind him.

“Hey, you there!” “Yeah, you there!”

With a groan, he turned towards the noise. Floating lazily atop the waves was a little wooden boat. In it, two hemulens dressed in blue waved at him. One of them blew a whistle, making him flinch.

“Stop in the name of the law!” one of them said. “Yeah, stop in the name of the law!” the other repeated.

Snufkin stared at them, reaching slowly towards the sign again.

“Don’t you touch that, criminal!” the hemulen on the left said as his counterpart jumped out of the boat and waded through the water. “Can’t you read?”

With a straight face, Snufkin yanked the sign out of the sand and threw it into the ocean as far as he could.

“Hey, you can’t do that!” said the hemulen in the water. His partner stared back and forth between him and the sign in surprise.

Snufkin shrugged, walking backwards and cracking a satisfied grin. “Sorry, officers. I’m afraid I’ll have to be leaving.”

And, with some objection from the hemulens in blue, he took off down the beach.

Snufkin’s footsteps felt heavy on the shifting sand, but he kept running nonetheless. He could hear the cop’s whistles growing quieter; they weren’t going to pursue him. He laughed, gripping his hat so it wouldn’t fly off in the wind. Of course, that wasn’t a very permanent or meaningful action, but it did make him feel better.

He ran and ran until his chest was practically splitting open in pain. He had found a slope leading up a hill and away from the beach, and had made his way into the forest he saw before. Panting, he leaned against a tree with his back to the sea and caught his breath. Then, he wiped his forehead and rummaged through his bag.

Out of the variety of berries and fruits he collected earlier on his journey, all that was left was a bruised apple and a few smushed blueberries. He grimaced. He’d have to find something else to eat and soon.

After he regained his composure, he stood up and went on his way once more towards Moominvalley. Though he had a lot of fun travelling and meeting new people, he couldn’t stop thinking about finally coming back and seeing his friends again. That was his reason for leaving, anyways. If he didn’t leave every winter, he wouldn’t get to miss Moominvalley. And if he stayed in Moominvalley all year, he wouldn’t have any time to himself.

Also, Moomin and the others were asleep anyway, so it wasn’t even worth it to stay during the cold months.

He walked down a well-worn path, whistling cheerfully. If he kept this pace, he’d probably be back in two or three days time. Just in time for spring. As he walked along, he heard something rumbling down the trail in front of him. He turned a bend in the road and looked down the hill to see a massive line of caravans and carts. Lanterns bobbed on and between the carts like hundreds of fireflies.

People of all sorts wandered down the route, some walking alongside, some riding on top of carts, and others on bikes and such. Lots had backpacks and wheelbarrows, and most had children. There was a sort of sorrowful, quiet aura about the procession, which worried Snufkin.

It was a mass exodus.

Speed walking down the path, he struggled to reach the brigade. He caught up to one of the last carts, one piled up with chests and furniture. A group of children sat in the back of the wagon, looking at him curiously. He waved to catch the driver’s attention. She peered down at him, comforting the sleeping baby in her arms.

“Oh, hello there,” she said, “can I help you?”

“What’s going on here? Is everything alright?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed uneasily. The driver tilted her head at him, surprised he didn’t already know.

“You haven’t heard?” She put the reins down in her lap, eyes growing weary. “Our town, Briarglen, had a devastating flood the other day. We’re hoping to find somewhere to stay soon, so we don’t miss the annual springtime celebration.”

Snufkin’s heart fell into his shoes. It must have been pretty bad if _everybody_ had left. “I’m very sorry. That sounds awful.”

She sighed, rocking the baby worriedly. “It could have been a lot worse, but many people lost their homes,” she remarked, “and with spring coming tomorrow morning, I’m not sure we’ll be able to find somewhere to set up the festivities. We have to keep everyone’s spirits up _somehow_.”

This confused Snufkin. Tomorrow? He was sure that there was at least three more days until spring came.

“Hold on, are you quite certain it’s tomorrow?” he questioned. “I thought I -- we, i mean, -- still had some time.”

She nodded decisively. “Positive. Spring has come early this year. Rather inconvenient, if you ask me.”

Snufkin put a hand on his head, slowing to a walk. Oh no. This wasn’t good. He was under the impression that he still had time, but… at this rate, there was no way he would be back in Moominvalley in time.

Unless...

He shook himself out of it, jogging so he could talk to the driver again.

“So sorry to be a nuisance, but do you have room for one more? I have somewhere I need to be.”

The woman shook her head gloomily. “I’m afraid not. It’s hard enough carrying around these kids. You could ask around, though.”

Suddenly frantic, he thanked her for the information and ran about asking the other travellers. Time and time again, they turned him down (some were ruder than others) until he had asked every cart driver in the group. Hopeless, he slowed to a stop and bit his nails fretfully. This might be his only chance to get back in time. Snufkin had seen what Moomin was like when he returned late. He really didn’t want him to feel like that again.

Turning to his last resort, Snufkin straightened his hat and adjusted his backpack. He caught sight of a lonely roofed caravan, trailing along at the back of the group with an older gentleman in the driver’s seat. Determined, he crept up behind the caravan, out of the driver’s view. Then, he quietly crawled in on his hands and knees.

_’It’s probably fine,’_ he thought as he pulled his legs into the van. _’I’m not hurting anyone, right? It’ll just be for a little while so I can get some rest.’_

He made his way to the back of the cart, wincing when the old wood shifted under him. Then, he lay down and sighed in relief. Before he could make himself comfortable, though, he caught a whiff of something delicious. _’This must be where they keep their rations,_ he thought. His stomach rumbled angrily in protest as he remembered his meager food supply.

He carefully opened one of the sacks, curious. Inside was a pile of bread, apples, and cheese. His eyes widened at the sight, and his mouth watered.

Immediately, he grabbed an armful of food and shoved it in his backpack for later. It really was a blessing that he found it…

Snufkin paused his thievery, thinking. This wasn’t really his to take, was it? He may be hungry, but it still felt wrong to him.

He thought about the masses of children he saw earlier and his heart wrenched. Immeasurably guilty, he replaced the food and sullenly lay back down. These people needed it more than he did. It wasn’t worth it. He could find something for himself tomorrow.

Exhausted from his long day, he lay his head on his backpack and curled up. He used his coat as a blanket, as it was quite too cold, and drifted off.

~

Hidden by the cover of darkness, a shadowy figure slunk through the trees. He was following the caravan, watching and guarding it restlessly. Vigilant, he watched from afar as some villain climbed into the food cart. He narrowed his eyes. Not on his watch.

He snuck up to the back of the cart and jumped in, hiding behind a crate. He watched grimly as the thief stole armfuls of food and shoved it into its sack. The shadow’s tail lashed furiously, and he prepared to kick him out. Just before he took action, though, he saw the robber sigh and replace the goods he had stolen guiltily.

The shadow was surprised. How come he didn’t just leave with the food? Cautiously, he waited for the person to lay down and go to sleep. Then, he retreated further inside and gingerly poked around his belongings. Everything seemed innocent enough. Maybe he was just a wanderer in search of somewhere to sleep. That was fine, but he was definitely going to keep an eye on him.

As he turned to leave, his sharp eyes caught sight of the trespassers hat lying on the character’s face.

No… it couldn’t be.

With a careful claw, the shadow lifted the hat and flipped it over to stare at the brim. Inside, carefully stitched into the fabric with pink were the initials “M & J”. Just as he thought. He squinted at the thief’s face, then jumped when he shifted.

The shadow replaced the hat and scarpered off into the forest again. Now this was interesting. If this kid was who he thought he was… he was going to need to have a talk with someone.

He continued to follow the brigade, keeping an eye on the thief’s cart with unwavering attentiveness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh sorry this is a bit late! i'm not used to writing chapters in one POV lol
> 
> we're getting into the story of it all, now!! im super excited to get to the good shit sdflkasf
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING!!! <3


	5. Whereupon the Rescue Party Finds a Lead

#### Back in the present…

The night air in the woods outside Moominvalley was pleasantly warm. Any remaining snow on the trees and grass was finally melting, leaving mud everywhere. Lining the paths were little sprouts and blooms, indication that spring was finally here. Everything smelled fresh and green.

The four of them -- Moominmamma, Snorkmaiden, Little My, and Sniff -- were busy setting up camp for the night. They didn’t get very far, but then again, they did get a bit of a late start. Little My was “helping” Mama make a little lean-to, Snorkmaiden was laying out a blanket and sleeping bags, and Sniff was out gathering firewood.

Snorkmaiden had been unusually quiet as of late, and Moominmamma was starting to get worried. She was sitting in the grass, uncharacteristically focused on unfolding a large picnic blanket. Her fur was a soft blue at the moment, but it occasionally faded into a deep green.

Moominmamma looked over from where she was weaving branches together, eyebrows furrowed. “Is there something bothering you, dear?” she said knowingly.

Snorkmaiden shook her head. “I’m fine,” she assured with a half-hearted smile.

“... Are you _sure_?”

“Quite.”

Moominmamma watched her work for a moment, concerned, before returning to her own task.

There was a brief period when the only sound was the wind blowing through the leaves. Then, Snorkmaiden asked quietly: “Mama, do you think Moomin still likes me?”

The question came quite suddenly, and frankly surprised Moominmamma. She paused in contemplation before responding.

“Well… I shouldn’t really speak for him,” she mentioned, “but you are a very kind young lady. I don’t see why he wouldn’t.”

Snorkmaiden’s fur turned a deeper shade of blue. “I don’t mean as a friend, Moominmamma,” she said moodily.

This made her hesitate. “Why do you ask?”

Snorkmaiden stood and lay out the blanket under the shelter’s frame. “I don’t know. I just feel like he’s not as interested in me anymore.”

Before Moominmamma could console her, Little My stuck her head out of a sleeping bag where she was apparently eavesdropping from and said, “It’s probably because he’s so interested in Snufkin right now!”

“Little My!” Moominmamma exclaimed, stunned.

Snorkmaiden glared, shooting daggers at her. “What do you mean by that?”

Little My stood and crossed her hands behind her back with a smirk. “I’m just sayin’,” she said smugly, “I’ve known Moomin for a while. He’s pretty transparent when it comes to stuff like this.”

She strolled over to where the picnic basket was and took out an apple. She leaned against the basket innocuously. “Have you _seen_ how he acts when Snufkin’s not around? He’s practically helpless without him.”

Moominmamma winced, miming a “cut it out” motion with her hands. But it may have been too late, as Snorkmaiden was already turning a flaming red.

“Do you mean to say that Moomin is _pining_ for _Snufkin_?!” she demanded.

“Why not?”

Moominmamma face palmed. “Come on, girls.” She sighed, irritated. “Let’s just focus on getting this shelter ready, okay?”

Snorkmaiden went on, ignoring her completely. “Boys can’t like other boys, My!” she remarked matter-of-factly.

“Why?” Little My countered promptly, taking a bite of the apple.

Snorkmaiden opened her mouth to dispute, but no argument came out. She closed her mouth and looked at the ground, perplexed. “I don’t know, it’s just not… something… that happens?”

Little My jumped to her feet, triumphantly pointing at Snorkmaiden with her free hand. “Ha! Just because you haven’t seen it happen doesn’t mean it can’t!” she objected. “You’re just jealous of Snufkin, aren’t you?”

At that moment, Moominmamma stood abruptly, startling the two. “Enough!” she shouted.

First, she pointed at Little My. “You! Stop harassing Snorkmaiden. We both know you’re being difficult for no reason.” Little My chuckled guiltily, rubbing the back of her neck.

“And you!” Moominmamma said, pointing at Snorkmaiden next. “You’ve got to stop worrying about Moomin. He’s safe at home, and you can work it out with him when we get back.” Snorkmaiden turned pink and kicked at the ground, embarrassed.

Finally, she turned and pointed at Sniff, who had just stumbled back into camp with the firewood. He looked around before pointing at himself as if to say “me?”

Moominmamma hesitated for a second, then lowered her arm and said warmly: “Thank you for the firewood, Sniff. You can leave it right there.”

With that, she sat back on the ground and folded her hands in her lap. “Let’s just focus on getting this done so we won’t have to sleep in the dirt,” she said, regaining her calm.

Snorkmaiden and Little My glanced sheepishly at one another before turning back towards their seperate jobs. Moominmamma rubbed her temples, frustrated, and went back to her craft.

~

Before long, they had a functional (if a bit cramped) shelter and a little fire made. At this point, it was quite late. Everyone had curled up in their sleeping bags and drifted off.

Well, everyone except Snorkmaiden, naturally.

She found herself sulking by the fire, picking apart newly-grown marigolds.

“He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me…” she sighed, staring at the remaining petal on the flower. “... he loves me not.”

She put the stem back on the ground, next to the five she had picked apart before. Not one of them gave her a peace of mind.

She collapsed backwards on the ground, gazing up at the cloudy sky. Maybe Little My was right. Honestly, she didn’t really think about the chance that he might like Snufkin. For all she knew, Moomin might not even think about her that way. _’Did he_ ever _feel that way about me,’_ she asked herself, _’or was it all just a big misunderstanding?’_

Her thoughts were interrupted when a smug little redhead entered her vision. She groaned, putting her hands on her face. Speak of the devil.

“What are you doing up this late?” Little My asked pryingly. Snorkmaiden sat up and brushed the flower petals off her legs.

“None of your business, Little My,” she said. “What are _you_ doing up?”

Little My sat next to her by the fire, mimicking her irritated manner. “Couldn’t sleep with you mumbling over here.”

They sat quietly for a second, stewing in the awkward atmosphere. Then, Snorkmaiden spoke up.

“Did you really mean what you said earlier? About Snufkin and Moomin, that is.”

Little My shrugged indifferently. “I’unno. Honestly, I was just trying to get on your nerves.”

“Wow, thanks,” Snorkmaiden grumbled, her fur turning a slight red.

“Oh, c’mon. Why is it such a big deal?” Little My continued, picking up one of the petals. “Why do you care so much?”

Absentmindedly, Snorkmaiden pulled up a fistful of grass. “I’m… not sure. He just means a lot to me.” She sighed, blushing. “I don’t want to lose him. Not yet, at least.”

“Blegh. Gross.” Little My rolled her eyes, standing and dusting off her dress.”You really should stop centering your life around Moomin.”

Snorkmaiden bit her lip, the end of her tail twitching nervously. “I don’t!” she squeaked.

Little My squinted. She looked pointedly down at the mess of destroyed flowers, then back at Snorkmaiden. “... Uh-huh.”

Snorkmaiden propped her hands on her hips. “It’s true!” she said defensively. “Maybe… maybe _you’re_ the one who’s obsessed!”

“I never said obsessed!”

Snorkmaiden faltered, floundering. Then she crossed her arms and looked away in disdain. “So what if I am? What’s so bad about that?”

Little My groaned, dragging her hands down her face theatrically. “Augh! Don’t you think you should have interests that _don’t_ involve Moomin in some way? Don’t you ever want to do anything _without_ him?”

“No!”

“Then you have a problem!”

There was a tense pause as the two stared at each other. Then, Snorkmaiden slumped, yielding.

“Fine. Maybe I do have a problem,” she moped. “What should I do about it?”

Little My blew out a breath and shrugged unhelpfully. “Sorry. I’m no good at advice,” she admitted. “Figure it out yourself, I guess.”

She stretched her arms above her head with an exaggerated yawn. “Whatever you’re thinking of doing, though, could you keep it down? I’m heading back to bed.”

Then, before Snorkmaiden could object, she saluted drowsily and sauntered off towards her sleeping bag. Snorkmaiden sat there a moment, pondering. Then, she scooped up the crushed marigolds and discarded them in the dying fire before making her way back to where the others were snoozing.

~

Moominmamma woke everyone up bright and early the next day so they could get a headstart on their travelling. Snorkmaiden seemed to be the only one that wasn’t half-asleep, and was humming cheerfully as she rolled up her sleeping bag.

“Well, someone’s in a good mood!” Sniff remarked, noting Snorkmaiden’s chipper temper.

“Oh, I am!” she chirped. “I think it’s going to be a lovely day today.”

Moominmamma looked over from where she was disassembling the lean-to. “I’m glad to hear that, Snorkmaiden,” she replied with a smile.

Once they had everything packed up and ready to go, they headed off. They didn’t know _exactly_ where they were going, but Little My was confident in their efforts.

“Okay, get this,” she said an hour or so into their journey. “I remember Snufkin saying something about where he wanted to go this year.”

She made everyone stop while she rummaged through her personal bag and pulled out an old, yellowed map. Snorkmaiden crouched down next to the map and peered at it.

“Where did you get a map this nice?” she asked suspiciously. Little My dismissed the question with a wave of her hand.

“It doesn’t matter! I found it somewhere.”

Sniff squinted, tilting his head. “It looks just like the one Moominpappa hangs in his office!”

Little My glared at him. “That’s just a coincidence. Anyways, like I was _saying_...” She pointed to a spot on the map labeled “Moominvalley”.

“This is home. Obviously,” she said. “Snufkin told me that he was going to go somewhere south-east of here, I think. He was looking for this place he heard about with huuuge trees.”

She dragged her finger along the map and stabbed at a point. “This here is Thessathorn Wood. From what Moominpappa’s books have told me, they’ve got the biggest trees in the region. And -- get this -- it’s only three or so days from here.”

“Why would he go there if it only takes three days?” Snorkmaiden asked. “He’s been gone for months.”

Little My threw her hands up in the air. “I don’t know! He probably made some detours! I’m trying my best here!”

Moominmamma giggled a bit, hiding her smile behind her hand. Everyone turned to look at her.

“What’s so funny, Mama?” Little My asked sharply.

“Oh, it’s just that Thessathorn is a funny name,” she replied casually. “Thessa _thorn_. Thessa-thorn. _Thessa_ thorn. Haha.”

The rest of the group spent a minute chuckling and pronouncing “Thessathorn” in different ways. Little My’s face grew red.

“Am I the _only_ one taking this seriously?!” she blurt out angrily. Everyone quieted down after that. “... Thank you.”

With an elaborate flourish, she rolled the map up and placed it back in her bag proudly. “There’s a path not too far from here that leads in that direction. So that’s where we should look first.”

Sniff clapped politely, and Little My bowed extravagantly. Snorkmaiden and Moominmamma shared a look.

“Oh, thank you. You are _too_ kind. Thank you so much.”

And with that, the four continued on their way. They found the path with ease, and walked along it chatting amongst themselves. They took a few breaks in order to rest and have snacks, but overall, they made decent time. It was nearing midday when Sniff suddenly spotted something.

“Hey, what’s that?” he exclaimed, pointing up the path. The others paused their conversation to investigate the commotion.

Rumbling down the path, a huge gathering of carts and wagons emerged from around a bend. People of all different sorts lounged on and around the collection, each looking dreary in their own way.

“Oh, dear,” Moominmamma said lowly, putting a hand over her mouth. “Come along, let’s see what all the fuss is about.”

They hurried down the path and met the first cart half-way. The woman in the driver’s seat looked practically exhausted. On the seat around her, dozens of children pulled at her clothes, crying and complaining about one thing or another.

Little My scrambled up atop Sniff’s head (to his dismay) so she could talk to her. “Hey there!” she greeted her. “What’s going on?”

The lady perked up, delighted to see a new face. “Oh, hello!” she said, relieved. “How lovely it is to meet you. How may I help?”

Moominmamma shooed Little My away. Sticking out her tongue stubbornly, she jumped onto the wagon to make conversation with the other kids. Moominmamma walked alongside the cart as the others went in their seperate directions.

“Hello, there. May I ask what this is all about?”

“Oh.” The woman’s smile fell. “Well, a few days back, our town had a terrible flood. We’ve been looking for somewhere to relocate to,” she replied, slapping a tiny hand away from the reins to the cart.

“Oh, how terrible!” Moominmamma exclaimed, pitying her situation. “Is there any way we can help?”

The woman thought for a second. “Well, we are running low on food. If you have anything to spare, we would be awfully thankful.”

Moominmamma thought for a moment, considering. “I’ll see what I can do,” she promised with a soft smile.

“Oh, thank you!” she turned in her seat (albeit with some difficulty) to point at a caravan at the back of the group. “You should talk to Mr. Grey. He’s in charge of provisions. Thank you, again!”

After a quick handshake, she carefully made her way through the carriages to the caravan in question. An older man sat in the driver’s seat, grumbling to himself.

“Good afternoon,” Moominmamma said. “Are you Mr. Grey?”

He looked up. “Yup. Y’need somethin’?” he replied, tipping his cap in greeting. Moominmamma relayed the situation. He nodded sagely.

“Well that’s quite kind o’ you. I’unno what exactly we’re missin’, but ya can take a peek ‘round back if ya wish.”

Moominmamma thanked him and waited for him to stop the cart. She climbed up into the back and took a quick look around.

“Hm… let’s see here…” she said to herself. Most of the bags were empty, as were the barrels. She took off her own bag and foraged through it, looking for something she could donate. She decided to leave a jar of peach jam, some sourdough bread, and a little pouch filled with raspberries. It wasn’t much, and it certainly didn’t make up for the loss, but she hoped it would help.

Before taking her leave, she decided to take one last glance in the back. Then, all of a sudden, her eyes landed on something that didn’t quite belong. She gasped, very nearly dropping her bag, as she recognized what it was exactly.

“Hey, kids?” she called out the back of the caravan. “You might want to come see this!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heya!!  
> here's the next chapter! i updated the previous chapters the other day, so now they actually are. like. good. (or at least better)  
> thanks for reading and have a nice day!!!  
> OH and since this might be confusing i made a shitty mspaint timeline  
> [>here ya go<](https://ia801400.us.archive.org/24/items/Up2Chap5Summary/up%202%20chap%205%20summary.png)


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